Not Your Fault
by LittleMissPeachy
Summary: Harry spends part of his sixth year meeting his longtime Hogwarts rival in clandestine encounters, but the threat of the coming war pulls them apart. Years later, after endless drifting from place to place, he discovers that what he's been running from has been what he's been looking for all along. Oneshot. Slash.
1. Easier to Run

**Disclaimer:** _The characters are not my own. But you know that. Carry on, dear reader._

**Warnings:**_ Language, intimate scenes. Some angst, some fluff._

**AN:** _Somewhat of an AU, but follows some canon when it fits the story. Set in sixth year and beyond.__  
_

* * *

"Ooof!" Harry let out a startled grunt as he slammed against the wall. He didn't even have time to take a breath before his attacker roughly kissed him, pinning his arms to the wall above. Harry responded by aggressively kissing back, battling for dominance with the boy who held the place as his rival here at Hogwarts.

This wasn't the first time such an occurrence had taken place, and both boys knew it wouldn't be the last. In the past few months, they'd established a sort of pattern. At random intervals, they took turns dragging the other into a broom closet, an empty classroom, or some other private place and roughly snogging each other senseless. The sessions were short, brutal, and never acknowledged by any look, gesture, or spoken word before or after. Harry tried not to let his mind dwell on motivations – his or Malfoy's – but late at night when he couldn't sleep, he wrestled with his own reasons for allowing such incidents to happen, as well as reasons why he shouldn't consent to these continued encounters.

Those reasons now lay forgotten, tossed aside with Malfoy's school robes as Harry took control. The blonde boy fought him – power, not passion, dominated these sessions – but Harry exerted his strength, reversing their positions. He attacked the neck now pinned to the wall, satisfied that the other boy would have to find ways to hide the marks until they faded. Last week Harry had been mortified when Ron pointed out such marks on his own neck, and it had been rather difficult to explain _that_ away. Revenge, he thought as he bit down particularly hard, is _very_ sweet.

By unspoken agreement, the sound of hundreds of feet making the trek back to class from lunch signified the end of their tryst. Harry let go of Malfoy, stepping back to allow his rival to throw his robe back on and straighten up. Smoothing out his own robes, he spun around, leaving the scene quickly before the first of the crowd started to trickle along the corridor. Walking quickly, Harry couldn't help but remember how this whole mess started.

_"What the hell - ?" Harry spun around at the sound of a voice, glad he hadn't yet undressed for his bath. Seeing the intruder, he bit back a groan. "What're you doing here?"_

_"A question I should be asking you, Potter. As I recall, this is a Prefect's only bathroom. I suppose the Weasel gave you the password, did he."_

_"Shove off Malfoy." Harry grabbed his bag and made to leave, but as he passed the other boy grabbed hold of his arm._

_"Let me go," Harry snarled, fighting to break free._

_Malfoy didn't say a word, nor did he budge, and after a fruitless moment Harry met his eyes. He nearly gasped aloud at the gaze the other boy pinned him with. The normally blank mask was alight with a hard, blazing look that shone with loathing and some foreign emotion Harry couldn't name. "Malfoy – what - ?" _

_"God I hate you," Malfoy whispered. With that declaration, the blonde tugged roughly on Harry's arm, ensnaring the dark-haired boy's lips with his own. Harry acted on instinct, violently returning the kiss before his mind caught up. Pushing the boy sharply away, he backed up quickly. "What the hell are you playing at Malfoy?"_

_"What about you?" The blonde crossed his arms defensively, raising his voice to match Harry's. _

_"What about me?"_

_"You kissed me back."_

_"Did not! You surprised me is all. What the bloody fuck was that about? Is this some kind of joke to you?"_

_Malfoy grinned at him spitefully, lowering his voice to his usual mocking drawl. "Not that it concerns you, Potter, but for once you managed to get close to the truth. Nott bet me several hundred Gallons that I wouldn't be able to kiss a bloke."_

_Harry felt a sudden stab of some emotion he couldn't identify. Unwilling to allow himself to acknowledge it, he spoke the first words that came to his brain. "And I happened to be the target."_

_"Not exactly. You were just…shall we say, conveniently in the right place at the right time."_

_Unwilling to delve into why Malfoy's words, said in such an offhand manner, hurt so deeply, Harry pushed past the blonde. The last thing he heard before the door closed behind him was the other boy's harsh laughter._

Harry shook his head, trying to push the memory away. He'd been dwelling on the Malfoy situation too much lately. At first it had been an easy thing to not think about, but the frequency of their heated meetings had steadily grown, to the point where rarely did a day go by without a quick rendezvous. His schoolwork had grown steadily worse, something that had not escaped Hermione's notice. He knew something would have to give eventually.

* * *

Harry gave a long sigh, pushing aside his homework. "Why do I even need to know why the Goblin Wars of – " Harry paused, searching through his notes. "Well, whenever the year was. Why do I need to remember it anyway?"

"I hear you, mate." Ron rubbed his eyes, yawning as he tossed aside his own homework.

"Ron! That was my foot!" Hermione rubbed her toes, never taking her eyes from the pages in front of her.

"Sorry," Ron grunted.

Harry stood up. "I think I'm done for the night."

Hermione looked up from her book, frowning. "Harry, I really think you ought to study some more."

Harry shrugged. "I'll finish this tomorrow."

"Harry."

The tone Hermione used made Harry stand still and look at her. Noticing the look in her eyes, he immediately became defensive. "What?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "What's going on? I've noticed your mind hasn't really been into school lately and you've been rather distant. Is there something wrong?"

Harry looked away from her piercing gaze. "Nothing's wrong. I'm fine. I just haven't been sleeping well is all."

"Even I can tell that's a lie." Ron's voice sounded unnaturally solemn.

"Look, I'm fine. I just need to sleep." Harry gathered his things and left the room, Hermione's voice uttering his name in a broken tone hanging in the air behind him.

Harry lay on top of his four-poster bed, the curtains drawn. He carelessly let a hand fall across his face, fingers angrily rubbing his forehead as his mind replayed the argument he'd just had. Shaking his head, he punched the pillow beside him as another memory began to play.

_Draco's laughter drifted across the grounds, assaulting Harry's ears as he watched the blonde and his friends have a snowball fight. He'd never heard his rival laugh freely before, and the sound captivated him. It had been a week since their kiss – he winced internally as he thought the word – and the memory of that night still haunted him, and not for the reasons he would have thought. Harry blew a slow breath out, his eyes watching the blonde as he ducked Zabini's snowball. He refused to let himself fully think about it, but deep down he knew what he wanted. His eyes fastened upon pink lips as a head, hair now white with snow, peeked out from behind a tree._

_Barely aware of his actions, Harry pulled out his invisibility cloak and threw it around his body, feet heading towards the laughing Slytherins. Careful to keep away from the line of fire, Harry leaned against a tree. Now only feet away from his target, he ran his eyes along his rival. He'd never really looked at the other boy in such detail before, and the longer Harry looked the more his breath quickened._

_"Hey boys!" A girl's shout dragged Harry's gaze away from Malfoy. Pansy Parkinson stood on a snow drift across the field. "Dinner is in ten minutes if anyone's interested."_

_"We're on our way!" Malfoy called, standing up and brushing off._

_"Go on ahead Draco, we'll catch up." Theodore Nott winked at his friend as he took Blaise Zabini's hand in his own._

_Malfoy shook his head and grinned at the pair, rolling his eyes. "You two are disgustingly cute." With that, he turned and began the walk back to the castle. _

_Harry stood frozen in shock. Zabini and Nott? He'd had no idea they swung that way, much less that they'd become a couple. Blinking, his gaze turned towards Malfoy, who had now walked halfway back to the castle. Making a snap decision, he hurried to catch up, leaving the two Slytherin boys to continue their activities unwatched._

_Harry caught up to Malfoy just outside the doors to the Entrance Hall. Stuffing the cloak out of sight, he called out the blonde's last name, his tone harsher than intended._

_His rival stopped, turning slowly. "You had better have a good reason for keeping me from my supper, Potter."_

_Harry walked forward, climbing the last few steps, unable to say a word while Malfoy's narrowed eyes cut into his own._

_"Well? Cat got your tongue?" Malfoy's lip curled in a sneer._

_Harry didn't know what made him do it. Covering the remaining distance between them, he shoved the other boy against the door, holding him there. "Shut up," he growled before pressing his lips upon Malfoy's. He felt Malfoy respond, kissing him hard and fast and rough before pulling away and disappearing into the castle. Harry let him go. Leaning against the door, he stared into the distance, his thoughts racing as fast as his pulse._

Harry punched his pillow again in an effort to shake off thoughts of Malfoy, but like every other time before his brain refused to coöperate.

_Three days after he'd kissed his rival outside the Entrance Hall, Malfoy had roughly dragged Harry into a broom closet, violently snogging him for nearly ten minutes…_

_Six days later, Harry reciprocated the favor beneath the Ravenclaw Quidditch stands…_

Harry groaned, fisting his hands in his hair as he sat up. Sleep would be long in arriving, and he could not lay here another moment. Slipping out of bed and into his invisibility cloak, he strode out of Gryffindor Tower.

Harry wandered along the deserted halls aimlessly until he found himself in a room that seemed to have once been a classroom but now served as a storage space. He ran his fingers over the top of an old oak table, feeling the dust cling to his skin. Pausing only to wipe his hand over his pajamas, he continued exploring the room, finally coming to a stop alongside a wide window overlooking the Forbidden Forest. Staring out the stained glass and allowing the cloak to fall off his shoulders, he took a deep breath.

"Pretty view, isn't it?"

Harry spun around, startled. "Professor Dumbledore!"

"The darkness of night allows certain truths to speak, Harry. As such, less formal terms may be called upon."

"Sir - ?"

"For tonight, you have been given permission to call me Albus."

"Yes sir – Albus, I mean."

The old wizard came to stand beside Harry. "A nighttime walk does wonders for the mind, I've found. Tell me, Harry, what is your reason for such late night wanderings?"

"Is it possible to hate someone and yet like them at the same time?" The words came bursting from Harry's lips before he could stop them.

Albus made a knowing sound, stroking his beard. "I assume this is in regards to young Mr. Malfoy."

Harry snapped his head to the side, staring in disbelief at his headmaster. "How did you know?"

"Difficult though it may be to picture, I was young once."

Harry narrowed his eyes, raising an eyebrow, but the other wizard didn't elaborate. The silence stretched on; at last, Harry spoke. "Do you know if – do you think my parents would have – "

"Your parents would have wanted you to be happy, Harry," Albus said gently. "After all, that is what they wanted for their friends. As I recall, Remus and Sirius used to be a couple."

Harry blinked, shock running through him before an overwhelming relief filled his stomach. "I didn't know that," he said quietly.

Albus smiled kindly at him. "It is a pity Sirius cannot be here to answer the questions you must have. He would have loved it."

Harry didn't answer. Looking back out of the window, he gave a small sigh.

"I take it you haven't shared your recent activities and discoveries with Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley?"

"No…"

"Afraid of what they will say, perhaps?"

Harry blinked but stayed silent.

"I believe your fears, real though they might feel, are unfounded."

"How do you _know_ that for sure? What if – what if they – "

"Harry, do you really believe they would turn away from you now? After all the three of you have come through together?"

Harry looked away from the piercing blue eyes. "No…I guess I don't really believe that."

They stood in silence, gazing out of the stained glass. Harry let his mind roam as ideas and words drifted around his brain. As if from far away, he heard the faint strains of a sound he associated with safety and warmth. The Phoenix song flowed through his body, calming his fears and draining the restless energy from his body. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to snuggle under the covers in his four-poster bed. Turning to say good night to Albus, he stopped short when he realized the other wizard no longer stood beside him. A quick scan of the room confirmed he alone remained in the room. Shrugging, he made his way back to Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

"Harry!"

At the sound of his name, he turned, his eyes meeting those of a bushy-haired girl. "How was Arithmancy?"

Hermione pinned him with a look. "Don't try to change the subject again."

"Hermione…"

"I'm worried about you, Harry. You've been distracted. Ron's worried too, even your Quidditch skills are lacking lately, and that's not something that you've ever had problems with! What's going on?"

"Do we have to do this now?" Harry couldn't help the note of whining that seeped into his tone.

Hermione shot him a hard look. "Yes. Now."

"Fine." Harry threw his hands up in surrender as Professor Dumbledore's words from the night before ran though his mind. "But not here. Myrtle's bathroom, all right?"

Hermione's eyes filled with relief as she nodded. "And Ron needs to hear too."

Harry shook his head in agreement. "Where is he?"

"Where's who?" Ron walked up, slinging his book bag over his shoulder.

"Ron. Come with us." The look Hermione shot him silently communicated the importance of her words. Ron nodded, then followed the two of them as they turned and walked towards Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, weaving quickly though the crowd of eager classmates headed to dinner.

Harry's heart beat wildly as he walked, his mind churning. As afraid as he felt, he knew talking about it might help him make some sense out of this predicament. At the very least, it would make him feel better. The cost of carrying such a burden had been more than he'd expected.

When the door closed, Hermione casually waved her wand at the door, casting privacy spells before rounding on Harry. "Right, tell us what's going on."

Harry took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I've been snogging Draco Malfoy for the past few months."

At his blunt announcement, he could hear both Hermione and Ron draw sharp breaths. Hermione, as usual, recovered first. "Do you like him?"

Hearing the direct statement out loud took Harry by surprise. He looked away, unable to answer.

"You do like him, don't you mate."

At Ron's quiet voice, Harry looked back at his friends. Taking a deep breath, he admitted the truth out loud at long last. "Yes I do." He looked at each of them in turn, scared but secure in the knowledge he had just uttered.

"Does he feel the same?" Hermione asked as she gave him a reassuring smile.

Harry smiled hesitantly back before answering. "I don't think so. The reason he kissed me in the first place was because of a bet."

"But he's kept kissing you back, hasn't he," Ron pointed out. "Perhaps he likes you too. At the very least he likes snogging you, or he wouldn't keep doing it."

"Ron has a point, Harry. Have you talked to him about it?"

Harry shook his head. "We haven't talked at all about anything."

"Maybe it's time…?" Ron's voice sounded cautious, as though unsure what to say, and Harry felt a rush of affection as he looked between his two friends. He could tell they were more shocked than they let on, and the fact that they were still here, calmly giving him advice, meant more to him than words could ever say. He let his eyes slide to the side as he mulled over Ron's words. At last he gave a sigh. "I know you're right. I'm just – "

"Scared of how he'll react?" Hermione's shrewd guess finished Harry's fragmented thought.

Harry considered her words. "Yes. But also…" He paused, trying to figure out the best way to express the thought. "I'm afraid he'll want to stop if we speak about what's been happening. I – I like kissing him. I don't want to stop." By the end of his sentence his voice became nearly a whisper. He blinked back tears as Hermione abruptly threw her arms around him, holding him tightly. "Thanks Hermione," he choked out.

Hermione let go of him, her own eyes moist. "We're with you."

"No matter what, mate." Ron thumped him on the back. "Even if it has to be bloody _Malfoy_."

* * *

"Whoa – " Harry felt a sharp jab of pleasure ripple through him at Malfoy's startled sound as he pinned him to the wall of Professor Binns' classroom. Instead of immediately kissing the blonde, however, Harry allowed himself to stare directly into the silver gaze of the other boy, now furiously looking back at him with a confused and slightly nervous expression. "Well Potter? Are you going to kiss me or not?"

Harry flushed, but didn't look away. "Is that what you want?"

Malfoy growled. "God I hate you Potter, but I couldn't stop this if I tried. Now shut up and kiss me!"

Harry refused to back down, even though his heart was pounding with nerves and every part of his body ached to be against Malfoy's. "Do you really hate me?" He'd meant the words to sound aggressive, but instead they came out quietly, almost sadly.

The sound of silence pressed around them, full of anticipation and a deafening tension that left Harry feeling air being slowly sucked from his lungs as he held his breath, every nerve alive, waiting for Malfoy's next sound.

"Dammit Potter! Yes I hate you! I hate that you always beat me at Quidditch! I hate that you never pay me any mind unless I make you! I hate that you didn't want me as a friend! I hate that you ended up in Gryffindor! I hate everything about you, from your messy look to that stupid scar! I hate that I ended up kissing _you_ for that stupid bet, and I hate that you had to go and fucking _kiss me back_, and I hate the things you make me feel, and I hate – and I hate – " Malfoy broke off, his breathing shallow and uneven.

As the words from Malfoy's outburst faded, the fight seemed to drain out of him. The blonde slumped against the wall, sliding down and taking Harry with him. Harry didn't know what to say. He gawked at the other boy, sprawled on the floor next to him, his mind jumbled. At last, the Slytherin took a deep breath and spoke, his voice low and tentative. "I hate – I hate that I don't hate this."

Harry found himself gasping for air as he realized he had been holding his breath. "I don't hate this either." His confession came out choked and halting.

Silence once more filled the room before a quiet and almost apologetic voice uttered a question. "Where do we go from here?"

Harry didn't know what to say, so decided to be honest. "I don't know. But I do know I don't want to stop _this_." He gestured with his arm, indicating the two of them as he looked straight into the silver eyes beside him.

Malfoy looked back at him, his expression unreadable as he searched Harry's face. Finally he nodded, reaching out and grasping the dark-haired boy's hand. "I don't want to stop either."

Relief flooded Harry and he closed the gap between them, kissing the other boy with desperation and a passion that had previously been lacking. He felt Malfoy respond the same way, and the fire consuming him burned hotter. Licking the mouth pressed to his own, he let his hands roam free, eliciting a strangled moan. "Do you want - ?" He left his sentence unfinished, unable to find the right words and unsure what Malfoy really wanted.

The blonde didn't answer, instead taking Harry's hand and guiding it slowly to his belt between them. Harry understood, and slowly unfastened the buckle, his breathing shallow and uneven. He glanced up at the other boy. Malfoy's eyes held his, and the mask normally in place now shone with such sheer desire that he felt his heart stutter in his chest.

The moment Harry felt Malfoy's velvet skin under his fingertips he took a sharp breath, hesitating for the briefest of seconds as his whole world came apart and rearranged itself in the space of an instant before leaning forward and covering the other boy's lips with his own, letting his fingers gently stroke of their own accord. "Is this okay?"

"Less talking, more stroking," Malfoy managed, panting.

Harry smirked, giving the blonde a gentle tug before withdrawing.

Malfoy whimpered at the loss of contact before realizing why Harry had drawn away and rushing to help him. Harry's pants had barely made it past his hips before Malfoy pushed him down again and they both gasped at the press of aroused skin on skin. Harry moved up slightly to press his mouth against Malfoy's and couldn't help the strangled growl that ripped from his throat. "_Fuck_ that feels good – "

"Do it again." The blonde's breathy voice reached Harry's ears in a haze of pleasure, and more out of sheer _need _than anything else he followed the command. "More."

The Gryffindor didn't think he could stop if he tried. Faster and faster he moved, and judging by the sounds the other boy made, Malfoy seemed to be enjoying himself just as much as Harry.

"Oh - !"

At Malfoy's cry Harry could feel the body beneath his own convulse. At the edge himself, he moved one final time before uttering his own exclamation. Panting, he held on tight as the waves receded from them both.

Harry didn't know how long they lay like that before the blonde squirmed underneath him. He pulled his head up to look the other boy in the eye. "How do you feel?" He infused a lot of meaning into those words, and could see the understanding in Malfoy's eyes as he processed them.

"Sappy Gryffindors," Malfoy murmured. But he moved to place a quick kiss on Harry's lips. "I want to do that again, Potter. Happy?"

Harry smiled back. "Almost," he said lightly. "Call me Harry?"

"You Gryffindors _are_ sappy. You think sex allows for first name basis." The blonde shook his head, his tone almost teasing.

Harry blushed. "Not all Gryffindors are like – " The rest of his sentence cut off as the other boy kissed him, slowly, tenderly. "What was that for?"

"Just because I felt like it."

"So the Slytherin can be sappy too, huh?"

"Slytherins are just as human as any other house, Harry."

"You hide the secret well, Draco."

"All part of our master plan."

"Which is what?"

"Oh hell if I know. I could come up with something, but I'd rather be kissing you."

"Well shut up and kiss me, then."

Draco wasted no time following Harry's demand.

* * *

Harry walked though the portrait hole in a daze, a huge grin plastered on his face. Walking up to where his friends sat with Dean and Seamus, he plopped down in an empty armchair.

"I take it your talk went well." Hermione gave him a knowing look.

Harry blushed. "Well, there's still a lot to be sorted out. We didn't do a lot of talking after the initial confessions."

"Ohhh who did you snog?" Dean piped up, his expression full of eager curiosity.

Harry laughed nervously, his face beet red. "You won't believe me."

Seamus shot Harry a grin. "Try us."

Ron laughed this time, holding his stomach as he bent over. "Harry's right, you'll never believe him."

Harry smirked, amused. "I've been snogging – "

"Wait wait let us guess." Seamus frowned in thought. "Well I'd never believe you snogging one of the teachers…"

"Gross!" Harry shuddered as an image of himself and Snape came into view. "No, absolutely not a teacher."

"And I could never see you with Loony Lovegood." Dean's face mirrored Seamus' in thought.

Harry shrugged, his heart racing a mile a minute as he confessed, "Actually she's not so bad. But you're in the wrong direction there. Try listing boys."

At that, Dean and Seamus looked at each other. Simultaneously they cried out "I called it!"

"What - ?" Harry's mouth fell open in shock.

"You knew?" Ron sounded disbelieving. "You knew he fancied guys?"

"It's called gaydar, Ron." Dean rolled his eyes.

"And," Seamus interjected before Ron could speak, "it's also called paying attention."

"And you pay attention to that sort of thing?"

"Of course we do." Dean shrugged. "You're not the only one in Gryffindor to realize that you're gay, you know. Welcome to the club."

"Are you together, then?" Hermione asked.

Dean smiled. "A few months now. Took us awhile to actually take the plunge."

"But enough about us!" Seamus clapped his hands once. "Back to the guessing game. Hmmm…well I can't see you going for that Smith bloke from Hufflepuff."

Harry laughed. "Guess again."

Dean broke out in loud giggles. "Oh! Well I can't see you going for any of the Slytherins."

Harry flushed and looked away.

"It _is_ a Slytherin!"

Dean's laughter cut off at Seamus' exclamation. "Really? You're dating a Slytherin?"

"I don't know if dating is the right word yet, but yes, he is a Slytherin."

"You're not – OH." Dean's eyes went wide. "You snogged Malfoy."

Harry glanced at Dean before looking away, his face flaming. "Yes."

"Huh." Seamus looked surprised. "I never would have guessed Malfoy bats for our team."

"I thought you had this – what did you call it – gaydar thingy," Ron gleefully pointed out.

"Well, as Seamus said before, it's called paying attention. It's more of an instinct based on observations." Dean smirked. "And I guess neither one of us have paid much attention to Draco Malfoy."

Harry laughed as he said playfully, "That's good, because he's all mine."

* * *

"I want you."

Harry shivered at the intensity in Draco's tone. "Show me how much."

The blonde moved to do exactly that, ravishing the dark-haired boy's mouth and hooking him by the tie, pressing their bodies together.

"You," Harry panted against the other boy's mouth, "are a bloody talented kisser."

Draco smirked. "We've had plenty of practice by now."

Harry grinned, bringing his lips to Draco's once more. "You'll never guess what I learned yesterday," he said, his breath ghosting the blonde's mouth.

Draco ran his hands lightly across the dark-haired boy's arms. "Tell me."

"You know Dean and Seamus? They're a couple. Been going out a few months."

"You didn't know that? Harry, anyone who pays any attention at all to them knows that."

"Bloody hell, that's basically what they said about me when I was telling them about us – "

"What did you say?" Draco's tone became suddenly harsh.

"Did I say something wrong?" Harry felt genuinely bewildered.

Draco broke out of their embrace. "You told people about us?"

"I'm not going to hide this from my friends, Draco," Harry angrily spit out. "I want to be with you and I don't care who knows it."

"I don't want anyone to know!" Draco hissed, shoving Harry against the wall.

"Why?" Harry challenged, his breathing speeding up.

Draco seemed to struggle with words before settling on, "Because I don't fucking want them too, alright!"

"I am _not_ going to be your dirty little secret. I am not ashamed of this, Draco."

"I'm not ashamed!"

"Then what? Why are you so against being open about this?"

The blonde wizard didn't answer, choosing instead to angrily seize Harry's mouth with his own before pushing him away and disappearing from the room, leaving the dark-haired boy to stare after him, too stunned to even cry out after him.

* * *

"Harry? Are you okay mate?" Ron's worried voice came though the closed curtains of the four-poster bed. Harry's eyes popped open before closing again. The argument with Draco left him drained, and he wanted nothing more than to just sleep.

"Harry?" This time, Hermione's quiet tone, layered with concern, cut through the silence.

"Go away." Harry spoke calmly but with no inflection.

Instead of disappearing, he felt the gentle press of the bed dipping as his friends came to sit next to him. "Did something happen with Malfoy?"

Harry groaned as he sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Yes."

"Do you – do you want to talk about it?"

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "He got mad when I told him I'd mentioned our relationship to my friends."

"Did you ask him why?"

"Yes. And he – he just stormed off, he wouldn't tell me why, and now he'll never talk to me again and – " Harry took a shuddering breath and then he dropped his head to his knees, tears falling thick and fast. He hated himself for breaking down but couldn't stop. "I didn't know just how much I'd fallen for him until he left – " He broke off, and for the first time that he could remember he surrendered fully to his emotions. Warm arms encircled him and bushy hair tickled his cheek. Another hand lay comfortingly on his shoulder.

Even after his sobs subsided, the three of them stayed in place. Although nothing had changed, Harry felt his spirits lift slightly. "Thanks guys," he said quietly.

* * *

"Granger what the hell – "

"You listen to me Draco Malfoy, and you listen well." Hermione's tone held no room for argument as she pinned him against the wall. "If you don't want to be with Harry, that's fine. But don't you dare leave him hanging with no explanation. He's been moping for a week! If you don't want to be with him you bloody well tell him." She released him and spun around to leave.

"I do want to be with him."

The words came out in barely a whisper, but Hermione heard them clearly in the silence of the empty corridor. She turned to look at Malfoy and saw he hadn't moved, the anguish in his eyes clear as he looked straight at her. When she didn't respond, the blonde boy spoke again in a low voice. "I'm not out. To anyone. I know my friends won't care but my parents will. I don't want word to get back them. I don't want them to know."

Hermione gazed at the boy before her for a moment. "Talk to him," she said firmly.

* * *

Harry slowly made his way to the Great Hall. He didn't really feel hungry. He hadn't felt hungry several days; if it hadn't been for Hermione's nagging he wouldn't have eaten at all. "Ouch!" He fell heavily on his knees.

"Trip jinx." Draco stepped out from behind a suit of armor.

"Shove off Malfoy," Harry growled.

"No."

Harry looked at the other boy and whatever he'd been about to say died on his lips when he saw the expression on Draco's face. The normally blank mask now shone with unguarded anxiety. "Draco…?"

At the sound of his name Draco moved to stand in front of Harry, his hand outstretched. "Sorry about the jinx. I just didn't know if you'd stop if I asked. I want to talk to you."

Harry gave a sarcastic laugh but accepted Draco's hand. "I can't _imagine_ why I wouldn't want to talk to you."

Draco flushed, but didn't look away. "I'm sorry for how I reacted that day. Will you – let me explain?"

Harry folded his arms. "Go on then."

"I'm not….out…to anyone." Draco said quietly. "And I don't want to be right now because – I don't want my parents to know just yet. They won't react favorably and I can't trust that the information won't find its way to them if I tell other people. And –" he hesitated for a moment – "I don't want the information to reach V-Voldemort's ears."

Harry blinked, mentally kicking himself for not realizing that it would not be smart for Voldemort to know of their – relationship, for lack of a better word. "Why didn't you just tell me that?"

"I know I overreacted."

"Look," Harry said bluntly, "I like you. I don't know how or why, and I know it's not particularly brilliant of me to have any sort of…feelings…for you, but I do. I'd like to see where this goes. But you've got to talk to me."

Draco nodded slowly. "And you're okay if we don't tell anyone?"

"I'm fine with leaving our relationship out of the public eye. But I want to be able to talk to my friends. Just the ones I trust not to say anything."

"Okay." Draco shook his head in agreement.

Harry gave a hesitant smile. "I know we have a lot we should talk about…but I really want to kiss you right now."

Draco closed the remaining distance between them. "I thought you'd never ask."

* * *

As soon as Harry took his seat at the table Hermione gave him a knowing look, raising her eyebrow. He grinned at her in reply.

Ron noticed the exchange. "Kissed and made up, have you?" he asked.

"Yeah," he said in an undertone. "But we're keeping it quiet for the time being."

"I've already mentioned to Dean and Seamus that they shouldn't say anything," Hermione said quietly.

"Thank you," Harry said gratefully.

* * *

"Shhh!"

"Oh you shush," Harry whispered mock crossly.

"I can't help it," Draco complained.

"You're going to get us caught if you don't stop moaning so loudly."

"Me? What about you?"

"Oh shut up," Harry snapped before kissing the other boy forcefully once more. "And besides," he said roughly when he pulled away, "haven't you ever heard of silencing spells before?"

"Well fuck," Draco murmured, "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Because you lose all of your brain cells when I kiss you." Harry smirked.

"Shut it," Draco growled before he captured his lips again.

A sudden bright light pulled them apart. Harry blinked, the classroom now awash in the harsh yellow glare of a _Lumos_ charm. He looked around and his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. "Professor Dumbledore!"

The old wizard surveyed the two boys, a slight twinkle in his eye. "Minerva once complained to me how she wished the two of you would at least be civil to each other. I see that's no longer a problem."

Harry glanced at Draco before looking back at the Headmaster. "Er…"

Professor Dumbledore gazed at them for a moment longer before turning to leave, saying, "Nighttime wanderings are good for the soul, I've heard. They might even be considered a _Requirement_ now and then, don't you think?"

Draco stared after him, perplexed. "What was he going on about?"

Harry thought a moment before it clicked. He grabbed Draco's hand. "Come with me."

He dragged Draco two floors up until they reached the place he wanted. "Harry," Draco said slowly, "Why are we at the entrance to the Room of Hidden Things?"

"Its other name is the Room of Requirement," Harry explained.

"So when Dumbledore said Requirement…."

"He was telling us to get a room," Harry said bluntly.

It was dark, but he could still see the slight color on Draco's cheeks. "Well, what are we waiting for then?"

"Absolutely nothing," Harry breathed.

Once inside Harry pushed the other boy up against the wall, lavishing his neck with forceful kisses, but Draco pushed him away. "He won't tell anyone?"

Harry met Draco's eyes. "Dumbledore? No. Does it really matter?"

"Yes it does!" Draco said angrily.

Harry sighed. He was getting tired of this argument. "Look, I trust that he won't say anything. If it's one thing he knows, it's how to keep secrets. Trust me, okay?"

Draco didn't look convinced, but allowed Harry to kiss him again, and soon the argument was forgotten amid roaming hands and unrestrained moans.

* * *

"Draco." Harry spoke before the Slytherin could kiss him, knowing that his next words would not come out if the other boy's lips touched his own. The past several weeks had been some of the best of Harry's life – being with Draco brought him more pleasure than he'd ever thought possible – but such a thing came with a price. A price he could no longer pay.

The blonde tensed at the serious tone and looked away. "You're breaking up with me, aren't you." He slumped against the wall, sliding down until he hit the floor.

Harry nodded, unable to speak as he dropped to the floor to sit beside Draco. Silence pressed around them until he found his voice. "I can't take the hiding, the lying. I know it's all for good reasons but I can't do it anymore."

Draco nodded and met Harry's eyes. "I know it's hard Harry but…" He paused, trying to gather his thoughts, but could only come up with, "But I love you."

The words stabbed though Harry as he looked back at the other boy. _I love you._ He'd imagined a more romantic setting for the first time that phrase was spoken. "I love you too, Draco," he choked out.

"Then stay. Stay with me. We can figure something out –" Draco grabbed his hand, but Harry pulled away. "No. I – I'm sorry, I just can't do it anymore."

Draco blinked rapidly, and Harry's heart hurt so much he thought it would burst. Giving in for a moment, he smashed his lips to the other boy's, kissing him hard and fast and desperate before breaking away and leaving him sitting on the bathroom floor.

He walked blindly through the castle, blinking back tears, until he could walk no more. His back to the wall of a deserted corridor, he slid down to the floor, his head to his knees.

"Harry? Are you okay?"

Luna stood beside him, her radish earrings swinging lightly as she turned her concerned gaze quizzically down at him.

Harry shook his head as he dragged a hand across his eyes.

Luna sat down beside him. "You know, the Crumple-Horned Snorkack digs a hole when upset. And then they'll lay in it, often for hours, until their mate shows up and offers comfort."

Harry sniffed. "What if their mate is the one who made them upset in the first place? What do they do then?"

"Then they stay in the hole until they starve to death."

Harry gave a weak laugh. "That's comforting."

"The thing you've got to understand about them is, they believe that without their mate, life isn't worth living. They bond for life. What they don't realize though is that there's more than just one mate for them out there."

"There is?"

"Oh yes. Everyone has more than just one soul mate."

"Do you really believe so?"

"Of course." Luna sounded surprised. "Don't you?"

"I've never thought about it before."

"Daddy always says that everyone has many soul mates in this world. Some are our best friends, some are family, and some of them are our lovers. He says that limiting yourself to just one soul mate is narrow-minded."

Harry considered her words silently, staring out across the empty hallway. At long last, he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Thanks Luna."

"Anytime." Luna smiled at him as she stood. "Dinner should be soon. Coming?" She held out a hand.

Harry allowed her to help him to his feet, and together they made their way to the Great Hall in comfortable silence.

The rest of the school year passed in a haze. Before, he would have been elated that Malfoy decided to ignore him; now the action sent him spiraling down. To those on the outside, he acted the part he was expected to play. But alone, in the dark of the night, his deepest most desperate desires took hold.

And then he saw the Dark Mark hanging over the school, and knew he could no longer afford himself the luxury of breaking down. The war was no longer something abstract, something that was happening in some other part of the world. It was here, it was now, and he could not allow himself to be distracted from the very real danger now seeping into the building he'd once thought was the safest place.

* * *

"Harry James Potter! Are you listening to me?"

Harry blinked. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"Just what I thought," Hermione sniffed. "What's wrong?" she added in a softer tone.

"Just thinking about – the future, I suppose." Harry looked away.

Hermione nodded. "I hear Malfoy is also coming back to finish his seventh year. Why don't you come back too? See what happens?"

"It's been too long," Harry said, still avoiding her eyes.

"The war is over, Voldemort is gone, and with him the biggest reason you could not go public with your relationship."

"I just…" Harry looked at her. "I can't go back, Hermione. I can't go back to how things used to be. And I don't mean just Malfoy. I can't go back to school. I can't pretend to focus on homework and classes and Quidditch when every corner I turn, every classroom and hallway, every _room_ in the castle reminds me of a past and of a battle that I'd rather forget."

Hermione nodded. "I understand…Ron feels the same way as you." She was silent for a moment. "I can't _not_ go back. I have to go back, just like you have to stay."

"I understand."

After a long moment, Hermione spoke again. "Ron is accepting the offer to be an Auror. Will you?"

Harry slowly shook his head. "No. I can't – I just can't do it right now, Hermione. My whole life has been about chasing and hunting and hurting and killing and…I can't do it anymore."

"What will you do instead?"

"I don't know." He ran his fingers through his hair. "I think I'm going to take the year off to figure things out. Try to clear my head."

Hermione patted his arm. "I'll see you over the Christmas holidays at the Burrow, yeah?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

* * *

"What's on your mind, Harry? You seem distant today."

Harry ran the tip of his finger along the cup in his hand. "I'm thinking about traveling," he said at last. "Maybe even moving permanently, if I find someplace I like."

"I think it's a great idea."

Harry looked up at Andromeda. "You do?"

"Yes." She took a sip of her coffee. "It's been months since the end of the war. And as much as I love your help with Teddy, you need to find your own life."

Harry considered her words. "You're right."

"Of course I am." Andromeda chuckled lightly. "Go travel, Harry. Move someplace, find some shitty job you love where no one knows your real name, live in some crappy apartment with ridiculous neighbors, have adventurous sex with random strangers – do crazy and ordinary and unexpected and random things and _live_, Harry. You're only young once."

"You don't know how brilliant that sounds."

"No Harry, I do," Andromeda said quietly.

Harry nodded, unsure of what to say. He sipped his tea. "One problem though," he said suddenly. "Everyone knows who I am. How can I do all that without….being recognized?"

"Everyone in the _wizarding_ world knows you," Andromeda corrected.

It took a moment for Harry to catch her implication. "You're right," he told her once more.

"Of course I am," she said, echoing her own earlier words.

* * *

He walked down the narrow road, forgoing the sidewalk for the relative easy-going on the plowed streets. No cars were in sight, anyway; few people were awake at this time of night. He'd taken to midnight walks the last few weeks. He couldn't sleep anyway. His body was still used to working the graveyard shift. He gave a sigh. He'd been let go from his job nearly a month ago, and still hadn't found another one. It's not like he needed the job – he had enough money in his Gringotts vault to last a lifetime – but work was a good distraction. And he needed the distraction. Otherwise he hung around his tiny apartment, watching whatever TV show happened to be his roommate's latest obsession. It's not like Charlotte had bad taste – hell, even he admitted that he couldn't wait for the next season of Game of Thrones – but he couldn't escape the feeling that there had to be something more to life than work and fictional characters.

Harry looked out over the boat harbor, leaning against the railing of the dock. His eyes strayed to the light of the full moon, and his heart constricted. For once he let himself feel the pain, let it consume him fully until tears poured from him like rain and quiet sobs racked his body. He'd never let himself feel his heartbreaking loss like this, not really. After the war he'd shut the pain away, hidden from even himself, but lately his perfect façade had begun to crack. And now, with the full moon shining brightly above him, he allowed the crumbling walls to fall.

When he looked up once more, he noticed it had begun to snow. He wiped his eyes roughly on the sleeve of his coat and watched it fall, the soft flakes gently landing all around him.

When he finally walked back into the apartment, he found that Charlotte was up, a cup of coffee in her hand as she stood staring out the kitchen window. She turned when she heard the door open. "Enjoy your walk?"

Harry closed the door and locked it. "Mostly, yeah."

"Need a cup?"

Harry nodded. "Yes."

She handed him a cup of already seeping tea from the counter. Harry stared at her. "How did you know?"

"You always make yourself some tea after a night-time walk."

"Do I wake you every time? I'm sorry," Harry said guiltily.

"The walls are paper-thin and I'm a light sleeper, remember? But it's okay," she said, her voice soft. "I know how incredibly healing a walk and a hot drink are."

Harry took a sip, hesitant to pry, but she seemed to understand his silence, for she answered the question he hadn't asked. "Last year was really hard for me, and I'm still trying to put together the pieces of my mind, and of my life. I'm doing rather well at not succeeding." She smiled wryly. "Why do you think I watch so much TV and spend so much time on the Internet when I'm not at work? I'm trying to forget, the same as I suspect you are doing."

Harry was silent for a moment. "You're right on point," he said at last.

"Of course I am," she said, sounding so much like Andromeda that Harry felt a sense of déjà vu.

Harry didn't respond, and a comfortable silence fell. He pondered her words, wondering what had driven Charlotte to hide from the world. They hadn't talked about personal things before. Aside from polite conversation and the hours spent talking about the worlds of fictional characters, he didn't know Charlotte too well. That had been one of the things that had prompted Harry to agree to room with her in the first place. She was a private person, wasn't particularly chatty, and knew when not to pry. The fact that she wasn't interested in dating guys was a bonus, as Harry wasn't keen on rooming with anyone that would see him as a potential romantic interest.

It was Charlotte who broke the silence. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but sometimes…it helps to talk about it." When Harry didn't speak, she continued. "I know we've never talked about our pasts before, but – something about the dark makes the things that are hard to face in the daytime easier to say, you know?"

Harry's mind flashed back to a similar dark night, and he nodded. "Several months ago, back in May, I lost some friends in a….plane crash," he said slowly. He didn't like lying but he knew he couldn't tell her the truth; she was a muggle. "Most of whom I'd grown up with in boarding school, some of whom were as close to me as family. And though I know it's not rational, I feel guilty. Why did I survive and they didn't? I should have been on that plane too. And…I miss them. So much."

"Last year," Charlotte said quietly, "My girlfriend – she was my first relationship ever – broke up with me. Two days after that, she killed herself. And a month later, my Mom died of a heart attack. You can imagine the emotions surrounding all that, I'm sure. I couldn't handle it. I lost my job, took to drinking." She paused, her haunted eyes looking at Harry but not seeing him. "If my Uncle Danny hadn't intervened, I might have died too. He brought me to Alaska, sobered me up, and then guided me while I got back on my feet. I've moved around from town to town, trying to find – I don't know, peace? I'm sure eventually I'll leave this town, too."

Harry looked at her, a wave of some emotion he couldn't quite name rolling through him. "I came to Alaska because it seemed like the perfect place to get away from everything and everyone that reminded me of the past. But I've since learned…" he trailed off.

"…That the past follows you no matter where you go," Charlotte finished his thought.

"Yes." Harry sighed. "And next month I'm going to my adopted family's holiday gathering and I have no idea what to say to them. How do I tell them I don't want to go back home yet? And that I still have no idea what I want out of life? And that I just feel so completely _lost_ –"

"They're your family, Harry. They'll understand."

"Rationally, I know that. But I just feel so useless. I don't even have a job anymore. Ron's working as an – a policeman, Hermione's finishing her last year of school, George has his own business…everyone seems to know what they want out of life. And here I am, floundering in the ocean."

"I'm in the same boat."

"Well," Harry said, "perhaps we can help each other swim."

"Perhaps we can." Charlotte gave him a small smile.

* * *

"Where's my keys?"

"On the hook by the door."

"Why are they where they're supposed to be?" Harry laughed.

Charlotte shrugged. "I was cleaning yesterday. Oh, and don't forget your pile of gifts for everyone by the door."

"Thanks. Are you sure you'll be okay by yourself for Christmas? I'm sure my family wouldn't care if you came along."

"I'll be fine. I've got to catch up on the happenings of my favorite women in Orange is the New Black anyway. And Jenny from work is insisting on taking me out for karaoke."

"Well if you change your mind call me on my cell."

Charlotte waved him on. "Go see your family. And Merry Christmas."

"Happy Christmas."

Harry drove until he reached the house he'd bought in the little town of Girdwood. He left his car there and for the first time since he'd left the wizarding world he apparated.

"Mum Harry's arrived!" Charlie yelled as he appeared on the front lawn of the Burrow. "Harry, how're you doing?"

"Alright. You?"

"Never better."

"Harry dear! Oh you're so thin. Come along inside now, I've got some soup on the stove." Mrs. Weasley fussed over him the entire way into the house. Harry saw Charlie roll his eyes, grinning.

All in all, Harry thought as he glanced around the dinner table that evening, it felt good to be surrounded by family again. And he'd missed Mrs. Weasley's cooking. He smiled to himself, taking another bite of a sizable helping of chocolate cake.

Hermione looked at his slice of cake, her eyes wide. "Haven't had any sweets for a while, have you?"

"Haven't had anything this tasty for a bit, yeah," Harry said. "How's school going?"

"You might not want to ask her about that," Ron piped up from Hermione's other side, but it was too late.

"Oh Harry, the NEWTS are coming up so fast! I've never had to do so much homework before. I'm not sure how I'm going to make it," she fretted.

"You managed third year alright, Hermione," Harry said, trying not to laugh at the expressions Ron was making.

"I had a Time Turner then!"

Harry shook his head in fond exasperation. "What are you planning to do after school?"

"I'm thinking about becoming a lawyer. But I'm not quite settled on it yet." Hermione frowned for a moment before brightening up. "Oh and Harry, will you come to my graduation? I'll owl you with the exact date and time."

Harry was silent for a moment. He looked at Hermione. He could tell she knew how difficult it would be for him to visit Hogwarts even if only for a graduation ceremony, and that she would understand if he said no. But he could also tell that she wanted him to be there. "Of course I'll come."

Hermione's smile at his words made him glad he'd said yes.

* * *

Harry opened the door to the apartment and had barely set down his suitcase before Charlotte flew into his arms. He hugged her back quickly before she broke away, her eyes alight with excitement. "You'll never guess what happened while you were gone!"

"If I'll never guess then you'll just have to tell me." Harry grinned, her enthusiasm lifting his own mood.

Charlotte bounced up and down on her toes. "I am going to record my own album!"

"That is bloody brilliant! How did that happen?"

"When Jenny took me to karaoke night, I sang a bunch and there was a woman who came up to me afterwards and told me that she wanted to sign me to her label!"

"Congratulations," Harry said sincerely. "I assume this means you're headed to whatever city she's located in then?"

"Yes." Charlotte's smile dampened somewhat. "I feel bad, leaving you all by yourself – "

Harry waved her words away. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Go chase your dreams! I've heard you singing in the shower, you deserve this chance."

"Oh Harry, thank you." Charlotte said. "So how did your holidays go? Oh, and I have some tea seeping for you."

"Thank you," Harry said gratefully. "I could really use a cup right now." He walked to the kitchen. "The holidays went well. Better than I expected, actually."

"How so?"

"No one pressed me about plans for my future and it felt good to see everyone again. I've missed my friends."

"Enough to go back?"

Harry considered her question for a moment. "No," he said slowly. "I'm not ready to face going back permanently yet. But I was thinking on the drive back here….maybe it's time to move on."

"Where do you think you want to go? Do you have any idea?"

"No." He sighed. "But with you leaving I'll have plenty of time on my own to figure it out."

"Yeah, and you'll have to remember to turn the TV on at the right time to watch Game of Thrones," Charlotte teased.

Harry chuckled. "Yeah. So when are you leaving?"

"About a week. Just enough time to pack and get things settled here."

Harry took another sip of his tea. "You'll keep in touch, yeah?"

"Of course. I'll Facebook you now and then," Charlotte smiled.

"Now and then is about how often I'm on Facebook, so that's perfect," Harry said.

* * *

A small owl flew through the open window and landed with a bump on the table in front of Harry. "What do you have there, Pig?" Harry said curiously. The owl hooted, lifting his leg. Harry took the parchment and handed Pig a treat.

_Harry,_

_Attached is the invitation to my graduation. Hope you can still come. I'm about halfway through the NEWTS examinations, and they're even more difficult than I thought they'd be, although Ron says I'm exaggerating (but as he's not taking them, he wouldn't know)._

_See you soon,_

_Hermione_

_PS,_

_I'd be ever so grateful if you'd send Pig back to Ron for me. Ron sent me a letter and since I didn't want to take any more time than necessary away from last-minute studying I figured I'd use his owl to send this to you instead of going all the way to the owlery._

Harry shook his head fondly before turning to look at the invitation. The date was a mere two weeks away. His chest tightened. Was he really ready for this? To see the castle, to face the memories? "But I can't run forever," he said out loud, as if to reassure himself.

Harry scribbled a quick note to Ron before sending Pig on his way. He left his small apartment and walked down to the nearby beach. Since leaving Alaska he'd been living in the state of Florida, and it was nearing summer now and the climate was much warmer than what he'd been accustomed to living in. He had to admit, however, that the evening walks he took on the beach were incredibly relaxing, a good way to unwind from the stresses of the day. He'd taken a job as a research assistant for a reporter at a local muggle newspaper, and for the most part found the work to be challenging in a good way.

He walked along the edge of the water, his mind already at peace. Maybe it was the sound of the waves, or the feel of the tide washing over his bare feet, or smell of the sea air, but over the last few months these walks had helped clear his head somewhat.

He paused a moment to stare out over the ocean and watch the seagulls fly, but turned at the sound of a voice.

"I see you walking every evening, and I always swear that I'll say hi, but I've always chickened out until now."

Harry turned to see a man with purple highlights in his dark hair standing before him. "What made you finally say hi today?"

"Technically I hadn't actually said hi yet." The man laughed. "My vacation is almost over and I didn't want to go back home with another regret."

Harry nodded, more to himself than the other man. He walked forward, closing half the distance between them. "What's your name?"

"Jake."

"I'm Harry."

They looked at each other for a long moment, and Harry could tell they both were thinking the same thing but didn't want to be the one to make the first move in case they were wrong. After a moment Jake broke the heated silence. "Life is too short to have regrets." He moved closer, stopping only when his chest lightly touched Harry's. Harry boldly stared back into blue eyes before leaning forward and pressing his lips to Jake's mouth. It was a whisper of a kiss, almost a question, a question quickly answered when Jake responded eagerly, with a passion Harry hadn't felt since –

Harry quickly squashed that train of thought by kissing Jake harder, faster, with a hunger that surprised even himself. He hadn't realized until that moment just how much he _needed_ this, the feel of another body, the taste of another mouth, the sensation of another's caress…

* * *

Harry woke slowly, his senses returning to him one by one until his memory kicked in and he opened his eyes to look at the other side of the bed. It was empty. He slid out of bed and walked to the kitchen, intending to make a pot of coffee, but a piece of paper on the counter caught his attention.

_Harry,_

_I'm sorry for leaving without saying goodbye. My plane leaves early this morning and I didn't want to wake you. Last night was one of the best nights of my life. If you're ever in New York City look me up._

_Jake_

Harry read the letter twice, trying to figure out his emotions. He felt almost relieved that there was no need for an awkward morning after scene. Jake was a nice guy, but Harry didn't want the headache of getting romantically involved with someone now, especially since several times during their encounter he'd had to push away thoughts of –

He shook his head, trying to force his mind away from thoughts of his old Slytherin lover. He wasn't successful. After awhile he gave up. Over a cup of strong coffee, Harry thought long and hard about Draco Malfoy.

The coffee was stone cold by the time he moved from the kitchen table.

* * *

The gates of Hogwarts opened to allow the Thestral pulling the carriage passage. Harry breathed shallowly, a mixture of emotions swirling inside as he took in the sight of the place he still, despite all that had occurred, thought of as home. It looked the same as it always had; no trace of the damage that the war had inflicted appeared to have remained.

"Harry! Over here!"

Harry spotted Hermione, with Ron by her side, waving to him nearby the stage area. He waved back and walked towards them, marveling at how the Great Hall had been transformed for the occasion. The walls were decorated with streamers and banners in every House's colors. Row upon row of chairs faced a large stage. Students, teachers, and parents milled about talking.

"I'm glad you made it." Hermione gave him a hug.

"Wouldn't have missed it for the world. Congratulations Hermione, you did it!"

"Thanks." Hermione beamed.

"All graduates please line up! Everyone else please take your seats! Thank you." Headmistress McGonagall's magically enhanced voice boomed across the hall. With a last wave, Hermione hurried to get into place while Harry and Ron found seats.

Harry listened to the different speakers, his attention waving in an out. Each speech seemed to be a small part of a larger message of moving on and learning to let go of the past and think towards the future. He tuned out a good portion of McGonagall's speech until the end, when she introduced the next speaker. Harry turned to Ron to ask in an undertone, "Why was Cho picked to speak? Normally the valedictorian is the person with the highest marks of the class."

Ron shrugged. "Hermione told me she'd been asked, but that she'd turned it down and recommended Cho instead. She wouldn't tell me why though."

Harry frowned in thought before turning his attention to the front; Cho had just started to speak. "Someone I loved once told me that life should be lived. When I asked him what he meant he just shook his head, gave me a smile, and told me to come to him when I understood. Last year" – her voice shook slightly – "I finally understood what he meant…"

Harry attentively listened to Cho's speech. She spoke openly of her sufferings in the war and her own struggles of coming to terms with the turmoil her experiences had caused. When the last note of her words came to an end, he automatically clapped while pondering her words. It seemed he was not the only one struggling to find his place in the world after coming out on the other side of the war. He noticed with a start that Cho had sat back down, her seat not far from his own in the row ahead. He leaned over. "Well spoken Cho," he said.

Cho twisted sharply in her chair to look over at him. "Thank you Harry. How have you been?"

"As well as to be expected, I suppose."

"Why didn't you come back to Hogwarts this year?"

Harry considered her question. "I suppose…I couldn't face the memories," he answered honestly. "Why did you decide to come back?"

"I suppose I needed to face the memories," Cho responded thoughtfully.

"Were you successful?" Harry asked, curious.

"Still working on it," Cho said.

"It's a process, isn't it," Harry said knowingly.

"Yes it is." An understanding look passed between them before they turned their attention to the speaker now at the podium.

Harry was grateful this next speaker turned out to be the last, and that the Headmistress began to call up the graduating students one by one to hand them their diplomas. He cheered wildly when it was Hermione's turn. He clapped loudly for his other classmates, proud that they'd decided to finish their education despite the memories from the war. When "Malfoy, Draco" was called, however, he froze. He watched the Slytherin accept his diploma in a cloud of swirling emotions. He felt Ron nudge him. "You okay?"

Harry looked at him and saw concern plainly in his friend's eyes. He shrugged, then shook his head, and turned back to see Draco take a seat. Ron awkwardly patted his shoulder once before letting the subject drop.

When the ceremony ended at last, Harry and Ron made their way through the crowd. They found Hermione by the cake table, getting smothered with hugs from Mrs. Weasley. He exchanged an amused look with Ron before moving to congratulate his friend once more.

* * *

"Are you still living in the United States?"

Harry turned to look over at Ginny. They were sitting on the lawn in front of the Burrow, watching George teach Charlie how to do a Patronus. Hermione and Ron had disappeared to who-knows-where doing who-knows-what, and the rest of the family had wandered off to do one thing or another.

"Yeah, in Oregon."

"What happened to Florida?"

Harry shrugged. "Felt like it was time to move on."

"I know that not all who wander are lost, but Harry…you seem lost."

Harry lay back on the grass. "I am lost. I don't know what I want and I can't seem to figure it out, no matter how much I try."

Ginny was silent for a moment before saying slowly, "Maybe…what you're running from is what you're looking for."

Harry looked over at her. "What do you mean?"

Ginny didn't answer him. "Just think about it."

Harry wanted to question her further, but a loud shout directed his attention elsewhere. "I DID IT!" Charlie sounded gleeful, and Harry at once saw why. A large dragon playfully swooped and soared before vanishing. He clapped and heard Ginny cheer as she jumped up and ran to congratulate her brother. He followed suit, her words turning in his mind.

* * *

He stepped into the coffee shop and his nose was at once assaulted by the pungent smell that he so loved. "Hello, what can I – oh good morning Harry. The usual?"

Harry smiled at the barista. "Yes please."

While he waited for his coffee, he scanned the other occupants of the shop. A couple of older women sat in a corner, laughing over something on the screen of an iPad; a young woman sat alone with her laptop, headphones over her ears; and a boy and girl in their teens were giggling together at a table by the window. Harry could tell they were on a date, and his heart gave a pang of longing. His birthday was next month and all he wanted was someone special in his life, but going out with Hermione and Ron would be all that he had to look forward to for his twentieth birthday, it seemed.

"Caramel latte with whip cream." The barista held out his coffee with a smile that Harry returned. "Thank you."

He sat down at his usual spot, a small table in a corner by the window. He watched people pass by on the street, his attention drifting in and out while he sipped his drink. A tinkle of bells as the door opened turned his attention to young woman who'd just entered. "Luna!" he called.

The blonde girl looked over at him. "Oh hi Harry. It's good to see you again." She walked lightly over and sat down. "How have you been?"

"I've been well. How are you? What have you been up to lately?"

"Looking for exotic creatures. I just came back from an expedition, actually. It wasn't successful but traveling though the rainforest was lovely." Luna gave an airy smile. "I hear you became an Auror after all."

Harry smiled back. "Yeah I did. Finally figured out that what people expected me to do and what I actually wanted to do happened to be the same thing."

"You're quite good at it, I'm sure."

Harry stirred his coffee awkwardly. Compliments tended to embarrass him. "I suppose I am."

A loud giggle made him glance over at the teenagers on their date. He smiled at the way the boy was looking at the girl while she laughed at something he'd shown her on his phone.

"You want that," Luna said, and her voice brought him back to focus on her. "Yes," Harry admitted. "I want that."

"Are there any boys you have your eye on?"

Harry nearly dropped his cup. "How did you know I'm gay?"

"I walked into Myrtle's bathroom once and saw you snogging Draco Malfoy," Luna said bluntly.

Harry blinked at her. "Oh," he managed.

"Whatever happened to the two of you, anyway? You guys seemed like a good couple."

"How could you know that?" Harry questioned. "We kept our relationship hidden."

Luna waved a hand. "I could just tell."

Harry shook his head but chose not to press her further. "Maybe we could have been good together. But the hiding and the lying destroyed us."

"Back then, yes," Luna conceded. It seemed like she wanted to say something else but thought better of it. He briefly wondered when she'd learned tact; he almost wanted to ask what she had been about to say but wasn't sure if he really wanted to know, so he let the subject drop. They chatted until he had to leave for work.

* * *

The wind lightly tossed his hair as he strolled along his usual route to the coffee shop. He enjoyed the walk he took every day, no matter what the weather. The barista waved to him when he walked in, and he waited patiently while she finished another customer's order. At last she turned to him. "The usual?"

"Of course." Harry laughed. "Someday I'll try something new."

She grinned. "I'll be shocked if that day ever comes."

Harry chucked. He watched while she made his latte, absent-mindedly humming along to a tune playing from the radio next to the cash register. The barista looked at him. "Catchy song, isn't it? She's a fairly new artist, but half of the songs from her album that came out a few months ago are played frequently on the radio."

"Her voice sounds so familiar," Harry said. "She's new? What's her name?"

The barista handed him his coffee. "Charlotte something-or-another. I don't really pay attention to artists' names."

Harry took his coffee automatically, excitement jolting though him. "Charlotte Webb?"

"Yeah, I think that's it."

The door bells tinkled, signaling that another customer had entered. Harry thanked the barista for the coffee and retreated to his table, his mind whirling. So Charlotte had found success in her music career at last. He smiled to himself. They'd lost touch after Harry had become an Auror; he hadn't logged into Facebook since then. He'd given up most Internet related things, forcing himself to leave the virtual world behind and log in to the world around him. He'd made friends and picked up several hobbies for it, and had never looked back, at least until now. _I'll have to send her a message to congratulate her on her success_, Harry thought.

"Potter. What are you doing in New York?"

Harry looked up and his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. "Malfoy?"

"Eloquent as ever, I see."

"What are you doing in a _muggle_ coffee shop?" Harry asked in a lower tone.

The other man shrugged. "They make the best coffee around here. I always stop here before work."

"How is it I've never seen you before? I'm always in at this time. I stop here before work too."

"Used to work the night shift. Got switched to mornings. But you never answered my question. What are you doing in New York?"

Harry automatically gestured for Malfoy to sit down. "Short story or long story?"

Malfoy took the chair across from him. He raised his mug. "I've got coffee and an hour before work."

Harry laughed despite himself. He couldn't help it; even after all this time Malfoy still had the power to make him act with his emotions instead of his brain. "I asked to be posted in the States after I completed my Auror training."

"That's the long story?" Malfoy raised an eyebrow.

"That's the short story." Harry took a sip. "The longer story is…I asked to be posted in New York because someone once told me to look him up if I ever ended up in the area. Turned out he'd moved away, but I couldn't ask for a transfer so soon after arriving. So I stuck around. And I'm glad I did."

"That's still not a very long story, Potter."

"Oh shush." Harry rolled his eyes. "So what are you doing in New York?"

"I work at a small potions shop in Chinatown's Wizarding District." Malfoy fiddled with the rim of his coffee mug. "Needed a change of scenery after finishing up my last year of school. Figured I wouldn't run into anyone I knew in the States." He laughed dryly. "Turns out I was wrong. Ran into Luna Lovegood a few weeks ago and now here you are."

"I saw Luna as well." Harry paused to take a sip, suddenly unsure of what to say. There was a long, awkward pause.

Malfoy gave soft huff and shook his head. Harry looked at him quizzically. "What?"

"It's just…" Malfoy shook his head again. "I was just thinking how odd it is, that I ran into you today of all days."

Harry frowned. "What do you – oh." He gave a wistful smile. "It's September first."

"It's still odd to me, not being on the train."

"Yes," Harry agreed. He broke out into a grin. "Remember the trip back home in fifth year when you ended up looking like a slug?"

Malfoy closed his eyes with a shudder. "Merlin's pants, I'll never forget that. My Mum was horrified."

"Ah the good old days," Harry sighed.

"_Good_ isn't how I'd describe being hexed."

"Perhaps not so good for you," Harry conceded. Another awkward silence fell.

"I'm out," Malfoy said abruptly.

Harry looked up at the other man. Malfoy was staring into his cup, his thumb rubbing against the handle rather nervously. He wasn't sure what to say to that, so settled for a simple, "Oh?"

"My parents weren't happy about it, but they've since come around some. And it's not been a big deal to anyone else."

Harry met Malfoy's gaze. "How does it feel to be out of the broom closet?"

"I didn't realize," Malfoy said slowly, "just how heavy secrets are until I came out."

Harry nodded his assent. Malfoy took a deep breath and spoke again. "I've come to appreciate just how difficult it was for you in school. Hiding our relationship," he clarified when Harry looked at him with confusion. "I regret that I wasn't able to – "

"No," Harry cut him off. "Don't apologize. And don't regret that you couldn't be open about us, because you _couldn't_ be open, Draco. I was so head-over-heels for you that I didn't realize just how dangerous it was for us to be together. Voldemort would have used our relationship to hurt us."

Draco looked at him a moment and then slowly shook his head thoughtfully. "I know you're right…" He trailed off and was quiet for a moment before saying, "In a different world, without the fear of Voldemort, without the need for secrecy, would we – would we have worked out, do you think?"

Harry considered the question. "I'd like to think so."

"Me too." Draco gave him a tentative smile. Harry smiled back. They finished their coffee in a relaxed silence.

* * *

"Good morning." Harry plopped down into the chair across from the other man. He was sitting at their usual table by the window, a pen in hand quickly moving back and forth over a small notepad. Draco looked up at him, his face lighting up. "Morning."

"How did that potion experiment go yesterday?"

"Not very well." Draco shook his head, grinning. "The cauldron blew up halfway though. We're still not sure what went wrong."

Harry gave a snort of laughter. "Oops."

"Still eloquent as ever. _Oops_. Yes. That's one way to put it."

"Hey!" Harry mock pouted.

Draco smirked at him before going back to scribbling in his notebook. Harry observed him, warmth spreading in his stomach. He loved this hour they spent together before they both went to their respective jobs. They'd been doing this for a couple of months now. At first it had been a bit awkward, but they'd slowly worked though their lingering issues until they'd settled into a comfortable friendship. Rediscovering Draco had rekindled some sort of spark within Harry; he'd learned that the Slytherin was everything he'd fallen for in school and yet a whole new person that he rather liked. As crazy as it was, he found himself once more tumbling into a whirlwind of emotions he could not manage to stop. His mind drifted to a conversation he'd had just last week.

_"I think I'm falling for him again!" The words burst from his mouth, much louder than intended._

_Ron looked at him, almost alarmed at the strength of Harry's outburst. "Do you think that's a good idea there mate? It's not like your track record together is – "_

_ "I know that!" Harry cut him off, almost angrily, his emotions making him irritated. "But he's different now. _I'm_ different now, for Merlin's sake! We get along so well, and this time there's no Voldemort, and he's been out to his parents for a while now. The old issues don't matter anymore."_

_"Then tell him how you feel, Harry," Ron said quietly, in contrast to Harry's tone. "If there's one thing the war taught us, it's that you should never let what – or who – you want slip away if you have the chance."_

_All of Harry's anger disappeared at Ron's uncharacteristically good advice. "I don't want to lose his friendship."_

_"You said something similar back in school, remember? And look how that turned out for you."_

_"But what if he doesn't feel the same? What if I have to stop going to that coffee shop? It's the only place that makes decent coffee on the way to work!"_

_Ron shook his head, exasperated. "Mate, you can apparate anywhere in the world to grab a decent cup of coffee before work. That's a pretty poor excuse and you know it."_

_Harry chuckled in spite of himself._

"Earth to Harry…" Draco lightly called.

Harry shook himself out of his thoughts. "Sorry, what?"

"What were you thinking about so hard? I've been trying to get your attention for a full minute!"

"You." The word automatically slipped out, and Harry blushed deeply when he realized what he'd said.

Draco blinked before curving his lips into a smirk. "Oh yeah? What about me?"

Harry turned even redder. "Uh, how I really want to kiss you right now," he muttered.

Draco stood up abruptly, and Harry's heart fell for a long moment until he realized that Draco's hand was outstretched, waiting for him to take it. He did so, unsure of what was happening until the other man pulled him flush against his chest. "That's exactly what I've been thinking about too," Draco softly growled before pressing his lips gently to Harry's.

Harry immediately kissed him back, soft and gentle at first and then more forcefully, deeply, and _oh_ – this was exactly how he remembered it and yet all new as their mouths became reacquainted. The moment lasted perhaps a few seconds before Draco broke their contact, a hint of a smirk still on his face.

Loud applause and cheers startled Harry. He looked away from Draco to see every single one of the shop's employees clapping and whistling. Harry blushed. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Draco had also turned red.

"Finally," Ann called out.

"Pay up, y'all," another barista said.

"You had a bet going on us?" Harry asked, slightly taken aback.

Ann giggled. "Yep! Brian here said two months. Most everyone else thought you guys would get together much sooner, although I said three months."

Draco shook his head and laughed. "If I'd had the courage to say something, it would have been sooner."

"Me too," Harry said sheepishly.

Draco looked at his watch. "Time to get to work," he said regretfully. "So, same time same place tomorrow?"

"It's a date," Harry agreed, and couldn't resist pressing his lips to Draco's once more.

~fin~


	2. This is the Story of a Girl

_**AN:** I wanted an explanation for why Hermione turned down the chance to speak at her graduation. This is what came out. Takes place the day of the graduation ceremony, sometime during the reception afterwards._

_I know that in canon Cho was a year ahead of Harry, but for the purposes of this story (and eventually a related fic I'm writing that tells Cho's story), I changed it so that she is in Harry's year._

* * *

She stares at her reflection in the bathroom mirror and takes a deep, shaky breath. Giving that speech had been one of the hardest things she'd ever done, and she still can feel the adrenaline of it all flowing through her body.

The door opens, and she turns at once, her hand reaching for her wand before realizing the girl entering means her no harm. "Hi," she says.

The bushy-haired girl smiles at her before she moves to enter a stall. Cho turns back to the mirror, absent-mindedly adjusting her hairdo.

"That was a brilliant speech you gave, Cho," Hermione says.

Cho turns her head to look at the stall door. "Everyone keeps saying that. Do you really think it was good?" She hears a flush and then Hermione steps out. "I do," she replies in a gentle tone.

Cho looks away, somewhat embarrassed at the praise. "I don't know why McGonagall chose me to speak. You should have been the one, you had the highest marks."

For a long moment the only sound is of running water as Hermione washes and dries her hands. Cho watches her, unsure what else to say. At last, the other girl looks at her. "I _was_ asked to speak. But I turned it down. And I recommended you," she admits.

Cho's eyes widen. "Why?"

"My story has been told before," Hermione says. "And I believe that history should remember the stories of the true survivors of the war."

"But you – " Cho protests, but the other girl doesn't let her finish.

"My story is essentially the same as Harry's. And his story will be told and retold for centuries to come. But he wasn't the only one to be affected by the war. You were here, at Hogwarts. Your story, and the stories of each student here, and the stories of your parents – these are the stories that will be forgotten. Unless they are told."

Cho nods slowly. "Thank you. I didn't – I was terrified of sharing my story. But I'm glad I did."

Hermione holds her gaze for a long moment before giving her arm a comforting squeeze and leaving the bathroom. Cho looks after her, a new respect for the other girl washing over her.

~fin~


	3. Moaning in Myrtle's Bathroom

_**AN:** Ever since I wrote Harry and Luna's conversation in the coffee shop, I knew I had to write the scene where Luna walks in on Harry and Draco snogging. I wanted so badly to make it longer (I love love writing smutty make-out scenes!) but since it's told from Luna's POV and I don't see her as a voyeur, this will have to do. And stay tuned for a longer companion fic coming soon!_

* * *

She steps carelessly along the corridor, dancing more than walking, her long radish earrings hitting her cheeks as she bobs her head back and forth. One of the younger girls at breakfast had sung a song she'd never heard before and since then she'd been singing it softly to herself. _And I've tried to fight it, to fight it, but you're so magnetic, magnetic…_

She reaches a door and slowly pushes it open, still humming under her breath. She knows Moaning Myrtle won't care if she sings while in the loo, and she's hoping this time she'll convince the ghost to join in. She steps inside, the door closing behind her without a sound, and at once stops humming as she discovers that she's not alone in the room.

Heavy breathing and moaning come from the other side of the large circle of sinks. She can't see them, and the sounds aren't stopping so she knows they don't know she's there. Curious, she steps carefully across the floor and peeks around the sinks to see the clandestine couple.

Her eyes widen as she takes in the scene. Harry Potter pins Draco Malfoy to the wall, squished between two stone basins, and hungrily kisses the other boy's neck and mouth. Except _kissing_ isn't the right word, she thinks, as she watches them devour each other. More like _fighting_, she decides, only instead of magic or fists their weapons are lips and teeth and tongue.

She looks a moment longer before carefully moving back across the room and out the door, grateful that Myrtle had not been around to announce her presence.

~fin~


	4. You're On My Mind

_**AN:** Ever since I wrote Harry and Luna's conversation in the coffee shop, I've wanted to explore what Luna had been on the verge of saying when Harry wondered when she'd learned tact. This is not what I had originally envisioned, but it is what happened to come out of my keyboard (while I was trying to finish a different companion fic)!_

* * *

"Bartender! Another one."

"Ye seem down, laddie. Got somethin' on ye mind?"

He tosses back the shot before saying thickly, "Saw a picture of an old lover. Brought back memories."

The Bartender nods sympathetically, "Ah, the one that got away, is she?"

"He. His name is Harry." Another shot.

"Slow down lad, or I may be taking keys from you."

"Didn't drive here." Another shot.

"Are ye friends nearby to help ye home?"

"Don't have friends. Not really." The liquid burns on its way down, but he welcomes the feeling as he drinks his way to oblivion.

A young woman with long blonde hair and radish earrings watches the man from four bar stools away, surreptitiously listening with rapt attention as her former Hogwarts classmate continues to spill his story to the scruffy muggle man serving drinks.

"I don't make friends easy. Never really learned how. Childhood wasn't particularly ideal for such things," the man grunts out. "And forget dating. Can't stop thinking about _him_ anyway."

The woman listens to him rant, rather curious. She'd long since learned to let go of any lingering emotions surrounding her time at Malfoy Manor and the Malfoy family in general, partly because she'd seen Malfoy's eyes when he'd brought food down to the dungeons. He'd been just as scared as she, perhaps even more so; she'd known they wouldn't kill her because they needed her to ensure her Father's good behavior. Draco Malfoy, on the other hand, had no such guarantee.

"Hey now lad, I think you've had enough."

"Jus' one more," the man slurs.

"Do ye want me to call a taxi for ye?"

"I'll take him," Luna speaks up, surprising even herself. "I can take him home. He's an old…friend."

"Alright there lass. Have a good night now. Have some coffee in the morning now, ye hear?" he says to the man now drunkenly trying to stand from the bar stool.

Luna helps him outside. "Do I know you?" he asks, leaning heavily into her arm as she guides him to a nearby ally.

"You must be really drunk if you don't remember me," she observes. "Listen, I can apparate you home. Give me your address."

Malfoy slurs out an apartment number and Luna turns on the spot, concentrating carefully on the destination. They arrive inside a one-room flat that's sparsely furnished, and she can't help but look around in wonder. The spoiled little rich boy she'd known from school wouldn't have lived like this before the war. She brings Malfoy to his tiny bedroom and lays him as carefully as she can on the bed. "Thanks fo' bringin' me home," the man manages sleepily.

Luna looks at the man, curled up around a pillow. Something inside her stirs; perhaps it's pity, perhaps it's understanding, perhaps it's a mixture of both, but impulsively she reaches to gently tuck a blanket around Malfoy. "You're welcome," she says softly.

She leaves him lying there and walks out of the apartment before apprating home.

* * *

He wakes up with a headache. Grimacing, Draco reaches for the hangover potion he keeps in his nightstand for the rare occasions where such a thing is needed and swallows it quickly. Blinking as his senses return to him and he begins to feel better, he looks around the familiar room. How did he get home? He remembers going to the muggle bar, talking to the barman, but little else. He frowns. Getting out of bed, he walks out to the living room and reaches inside the potted plant on the living room coffee table, the one thing that appears to be the only decoration in the place. He pulls out what looks to be a small muggle camera. He'd magically modified one so that it started recording if someone other than himself entered using magical or muggle means. He selects the recording for the night before and presses play. "What the hell," he murmurs when he sees himself appear in the room, holding onto Luna Lovegood. She half carries him out of the line of sight of the camera, presumably to his bedroom. A few minutes later she leaves.

"Why would she help me?" he wonders aloud. Guilt bubbles up. His family had held her captive, for Merlin's sake! And he'd done nothing to help her. She had every right to hate him, and yet –

He shakes his head, marveling at how she had helped him home when she had no reason to do so. _The world needs more people as forgiving as you, Luna Lovegood._

* * *

Luna waves goodbye to Harry and leaves the coffee shop smiling. It had been nice to talk with him. She misses her friends from Hogwarts; she loves traveling, searching for her elusive creatures, but she rarely has time anymore to visit with her old school mates. She shakes her head. She'd nearly mentioned that she'd seen Draco Malfoy only a few days earlier and that he clearly wasn't over Harry, but at the last minute had thought better of it; Harry hadn't seemed like the topic was something he wanted to discuss. At one time, this wouldn't have stopped her, but she'd spent enough time immersing herself in other cultures and learning how to act in other environments that tact came more naturally to her these days.

She skips merrily into her hotel room and gets to work packing; she's left it late this time, and her next expedition starts tomorrow. A tapping at the window startles her, and she turns to see an owl. She hurries to let it in. As soon as she takes the letter from its leg it hoots softly and takes off, quickly shooting out of the still open window. "Wait!" Luna cries, but it's too late.

Curious now, she opens the letter.

_Miss Lovegood,_

_I have instructed the Gringotts goblins to transfer a rather large sum from my vault to yours. This in no way repays my debt to you, but it is all I have to give. Do what you will with it, but perhaps consider it my contribution to the search for whatever exotic creatures for which you are looking._

She frowns in thought. The letter isn't signed, and she hadn't recognized the owl. She reads the letter again. _This in no way repays my debt to you._ Who would feel indebted to her? She's helped a lot of people in her travels of the world, who would do such a thing for her?

At last, deciding she wouldn't be able to figure it out at the moment, she went back to packing.

* * *

"Luna! I didn't know you were back from your trip. How did it go?"

"Can you help me?"

"Of course," the other witch says, sounding slightly taken aback. Luna can't blame her; she'd showed up at her work and had been rather abrupt in asking the question, but this mystery had been in the back of her mind during the entire expedition and she wanted it solved.

"Is there a spell that can tell me who wrote this?" She holds out the anonymous letter.

The witch nods, her bushy hair bouncing. "Yes." She takes the parchment and murmurs a spell. A shudder seems to go through her and she closes her eyes, and Luna guesses that this particular spell must make some sort of odd sensation run though the casters' body.

Hermione opens her eyes. "Why did Draco Malfoy write you?" she asks curiously.

Luna feels a wave of shock. Unable to speak, she makes a gesture at the other girl. She understands, quickly opening the letter and scanning the words on the page. "He's changed quite a lot, since the war," she says quietly when finished.

"We all have changed," Luna says in the same tone.

Hermione slowly nods, her expression taking on a faraway look. "That we have."

* * *

She dances down the sidewalk, humming some popular muggle song that regularly plays on the radio station at the coffee shop she frequents. The people she passes by seem to stare at her, but she doesn't give them much thought until she bumps into someone standing in line at a small food cart. "I'm sorry," she says airily before recognizing the man. "Oh, hello Draco."

Draco stares at her for a moment and then gives her a cautious smile. "Hello…Luna. How are you?"

"Quite well, thanks." She flashes a bright grin.

Draco seems to hesitate a moment before saying quietly, "Thank you for helping me that night."

Luna nods knowingly. "You're quite welcome. Thank you for helping me in return."

The man looks shocked for a moment. He shuffles his feet, looking down. "How did you know it was me?" he asks in the same quiet tone.

Luna disregards his question, instead moving to touch his arm. He looks up at her, startled. "Tell him."

"I'm sorry?" He looks confused, his eyebrow rising in question.

"Tell Harry how you feel."

Draco looks at her, his mouth opening in shock. "How – how did you know?" he manages at last.

"I heard you – "

"That night at the bar," he finishes her sentence. He looks away. "We've been reconnecting lately," he says softly. "Getting to know each other again. I'm falling even deeper for him but I don't want to screw this up like I did last time."

"Tell him," Luna repeats.

"Hey you, you going to order or what?" the food cart vendor grumpily asks.

Draco turns to look at the burly man. "One hot dog, the works please," he says briskly. The vendor grunts in acknowledgement.

Once he's exchanged some muggle money for his hot dog, he turns back to Luna, but she's no longer there. Frowning, he looks around, but she's disappeared. He sighs and makes his way along the sidewalk, pondering her words. _Tell him._ Soon, he decides. Another few days and it will be exactly two months since they'd been meeting every morning at the coffee shop. Their – anniversary, for lack of a better word – would be the perfect time.

His heartbeat quickens as his thoughts race ahead, planning how to best to share his feelings.

~fin~


End file.
